


Spider-Flu

by Daisy_PoisonPen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Irondad is overreacting, Irondad panic, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker, Wholesome Family Feels, and i just want everyone to be happy, because i hate how endgame ends, probably, so here’s some crack fluff, t for language, timelime non-compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-24 19:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19730401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_PoisonPen/pseuds/Daisy_PoisonPen
Summary: Peter Parker gets the flu.Tony Stark doesn’t know what to do.Clint is amused.Steve is himself.The rest of the Avengers descend on recovering Spiderman, each trying to help.These guys save the world, by the way, the flu... it’s kind of out of their realm of experience.Bruce Banner spends most of his time facepalming.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sick, so so is Peter.
> 
> Have fun!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't feel so good™️
> 
> Tony Stark is definitely not panicking. He'll be fine, right? Right.

Peter yanks his mask off, dropping into a squat and then sitting down, swinging his legs off the side of the southeast spire of the Brooklyn Bridge, overlooking a park and a carousel, as well as a fantastic view of the river.

In the summer, this area is full, but now it’s only 6 in the evening and everything is relatively dark and empty, as dark and empty as anything ever gets in New York City.

The air is cold, but it burns his throat. He sighs, running his fingers into his hair and yanking a little. Losing sucks--and worse, he’s not going to be able to get another lead on Kingpin for quite some time. He hopes that he managed to delay whatever the enormous man is planning now. The crime lord was definitely going to stay in the creases until then and Peter was tired. He still has to go finish a term paper for his Electricity and Magnetism II elective and three worksheets for AP Bio. And, with regionals on Thursday, he has to get in as much studying as he can.

He feels sore _everywhere._

“Hey, KAREN,” he grunts, slipping his mask on again, “can you… God. Can you just do a report for Mr. Stark? I honestly just want to go home.”

“Are you alright, Peter?”

Peter shrugs. “Sure.”

* * *

No, he’s definitely not alright.

“May?” he groans in the morning. He can barely stand up, but he still manages to make it to the door of his bedroom somehow.

“Oh my God—Peter, what’s the matter?”

“Don’t feel good,” he mutters.

“Want me to call you out of school today?”

“Yes please, Aunty,” he whispers on his way to the bathroom.

May watches him go, concerned. Aunty is something he calls her when he is feeling particularly miserable or pathetic.

He stumbles past the mirror and winces. His eyes are red and watery, his skin splotchy, his hair everywhere. His body feels so weak and tired, he has to sit to pee.

He slumps back into his bed and curls under the covers, whimpering. “H-hey KAREN?”

His phone wakes. Two weeks ago, Mr. Stark gave him basically a Karen app for his phone, allowing him to use her even when he isn’t in his suit. With Karen living in his phone, he finds himself talking to her a lot as if she’s a friend.

“Hello, Peter,” she says kindly. “You’re not well.”

“I think I caught a cold,” he mutters. “Can you… can you tell Friday that I have to c—” his throat _burns._ Holy God.

“You need to cancel on Mr. Stark today?”

He nods miserably. “Are colds worse for people with superpowers? I thought people with supe—CHOOGH! Fuck,” he coughs, sputtering.

“I’ll let him know,” KAREN says.

“Thanks.”

“You heal at a rate at least twelve times faster than the average human. Hopefully, this doesn’t last you more than a couple of days.” Karen sounds oddly sympathetic.

“Yeah I hope so too,” he groans, closing his eyes.

* * *

Tony calls him almost immediately. “How are you feeling, kid?”

“Do spiders even get colds?” he groans into his phone.

“No, but teenagers do.” Tony frowns. He sounds awful. “KAREN called to tell me you can’t come in.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“I talked to May, she said you have a fever.”

“I hate everything and myself,” he whimpers.

“You’ll be okay, right?”

“I’m very obviously dying.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Tony answers, amused.

“My throat hurts from coughing and my chest hurts from sneezing. There’s snot _everywhere—_ And I didn’t catch Kingpin.”

“I saw. It’s a setback, but you’ll get him. You know you can always tell me if you need help.”

“Worst week ever.”

“It’s only Tuesday.”

“May—has something important for work tomorrow—” he coughs and sputters, his throat feeling raw. “She can’t call out. Can I stay over?” he whimpers.

“No! No, no—if you get me or anyone on the team sick, I’m going to throw you out the penthouse window.”

“You’d feel bad and catch me,” Peter grins. “End call.”


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony thinks this requires backup.

Tony had Happy bring him into the medbay after all. He convinces May (and himself) that it’s pretty standard to get medical attention for a high fever and that it’s better to be safe than sorry. _He is definitely not panicking._

Banner scanned him from head to toe or everything up to and including bronchitis, pneumonia, strep, and every other form of infection he could think of. Bronchitis was developing in his lungs and airway, but it was mild and he probably didn't need to be hospitalized or anything drastic. The cause of it had been what took him down—a flu virus.

Banner had recommended some Tamiflu and a bunch of cold and flu meds, and he had them ordered and delivered within the hour, where Banner had given him the Tamiflu and set him up with a bit of fluids and IV Motrin to help him sleep.

When he was cleared from everything except a touch of bronchitis and the suspected flu virus, Tony put him in bed in the guest room reserved for him. The mini fridge there is stocked with water bottles and electrolyte drinks, and Friday set the glass to black out.

In the darkened room, Peter is sound asleep, curled into a ball around his pillow, shivering. Tony thinks he looked too innocent as he sleeps that way. He wonders why the powers that be decided the kid should have radioactive spider powers.

Now he just feels weird because he’s standing in the doorway, watching the kid sleep and pondering the powers that be. He hastily shuts the door.

Outside, Pepper watches him with a small smile.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re doing the Irondad thing again.”

Tony ignores her. “Hey FRIDAY, keep an eye on Pete’s vitals, will you? Let me know when he’s up.”

He hasn’t even finished closing the doorway when FRIDAY says, “Boss? He’s up. He appears to be vomiting. Should I get Dr. Banner?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, bursting back into the kid’s room. He follows the coughing and retching sound to the bathroom, where he helps the kid clean up before he says, “back to the medbay with you.”

“Aw—come on,” he whimpers. “I want my bed.”

“If you’re puking you’re gonna dehydrate any second and you can’t keep fluids down. I’m having May call you out of school the rest of the week, and you’re staying until Banner clears you.”

“What happened to not getting the Avengers sick?”

“They’ll manage.”

Peter sighs, and he looks like he’s about to cry. “I was supposed to compete this week.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“My homework will be late. May is gonna kill me.”

“You friend Ned agreed to collect your assignments for you. He’ll help you catch up and turn in your stuff for you.”

Peter doesn’t respond, but he heaves into the toilet again.

* * *

Peter is asleep in the medbay, and Tony is pacing outside of it, frowning intensely at the floor as he walks.

“Banner, he’s getting worse instead of better. Shouldn’t his healing factor kick in?”

“I don’t know, Tone—I’ve never met a guy who got his DNA mutated by a radioactive spider bite. Healing factors fix damage, right? It might not necessarily mean an enhanced immunity.”

“Okay, but—”

“I gave him nausea medication, but he’s burning through most meds at least ten times faster than the average person. I can run more tests, Tony, but you told us specifically that you didn’t want anyone experimenting on him.”

“I don’t,” Tony snaps. “He’s a kid, not a HYDRA project.”

“We aren’t HYDRA. We’re trying to help. Look, I am doing the best I can but you know… with flus, it’s best to wait them out.”

“I… fine.” Tony sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “FRIDAY, send May updates every day.”

“Should I update her now, Boss?”

“Yeah.”

“Done.”

Tony sighs and paces again.

Banner puts a hand on his arm, stopping him momentarily. “I know you are worried. I’ll keep a close eye out.”

“I think we should call in an expert.”

“...what?”

“I’ve literally met a magical doctor.” Tony paces faster. “Also, we know someone who deals with not one, but three sick kids. All the time. We should call them to help you.”

Banner snorts, amused. “Seriously?”

“Bet your ass. The kid needs the best care available. In fact, FRIDAY, call everyone. Tell them it’s urgent.”

* * *

“What the fuck, Stark? You said it was an emergency!”

“It is. Spidey has the flu.”

“Oh—fuck sakes.” Clint unstraps his gloves and his bow and quiver as Dr. Strange of all people portals in literally through the couch.

“What do you want, Stark?”

“Save my kid,” he pleads dramatically.

In the back, Banner rolls his eyes. “Peter has the flu.”

“Hmm.” Honestly, Tony is grateful for Strange’s non-reaction.

“If the kid has the flu, the best bet is to keep him in there and let him sleep it off.”

“I agree,” Strange says, “but I’ll examine him just the same.” He has to change, but the Cloak follows him in anyway. He puts on gloves. “Fever. Eyes reactive and equal. Nodes slightly swollen, that’s to be expected.” Strange calmly examines the boy, speaking his observations out loud so that Banner and Stark can hear. “Heart rate is normal, but breathing—did you take an x-ray?”

“No pneumonia, but he’s got a bit of bronchitis.”

Strange frowns. “How quickly did it progress?”

“Probably overnight,” Tony mutters.

“Hmm. Any rash?”

“No.”

“Powers going haywire?”

“Not that he's mentioned.”

Clint stands in the doorway. “Sounds like the kid has the flu,” he muses.

“Yeah. I’m a bit concerned about how fast he got bronchitis from all this, but I assume that, due to his abilities, his immune system has changed. Inflammations are usually an immune response, after all. Antibiotics for the bronchitis and plenty of fluids and rest for the flu. Keep him in observation for a while to make sure he doesn’t develop any other complications. Any questions?”

“Wait—that’s it?”

Strange glances at Tony and smiles. “There are no curses or spells about his person either. Your ward just got sick, Stark. It happens.”

“Literally somebody, anybody fix my kid.”

“He’s not your kid,” Clint says, amused with the death glare Tony sends him.

“He’ll fix himself. He just needs time.”

“Mr. Stark?” a voice rasps.

“Hey kid.”

“Hey kid.”

Peter’s bleary eyes try first to find Mr. Stark, then land on the person sitting on the edge of his bed. “Dr. Strange? God—no, no, no, you can’t just call th—” he breaks into brutal coughing fit. When he’s calm again, he frowns. “You called Sparkly Doctor and Hawkeye?! You can’t just call the Avengers every time I get—what are they gonna do, avenge the jerk that went to school with the flu?!”

“Not a bad idea. FRIDAY—”

“No. Literally, no. Stop it.”

“I’ll have you know that I used to be a real doctor,” Strange says, amused. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful,” he mutters.

“Well, Dr. Banner here is doing everything right, so… you just get plenty of rest, alright, kid?”

“Sure, sure. Can you… do the sparkly thing and keep Mr. Stark from killing Betty?”

“Probably not.”

“Great.” He’s half asleep again, so Strange just stands up and walks away.

“He’s going to be fine, Stark.”

“He was puking! You didn’t see him.”

“Yes, I did. He’s going to he fine. Give him a few days.”

“He doesn’t have a few days. His competition is on Thursday, and—”

“If I had a dollar for every time one of my kids missed a school function because they got sick, I’d be richer than you, Stark.”

“Shut up…”

“The doc said antibiotics, I say soup and tea, and a metric fuckton of Nyquil and Netflix. Kid’ll be fine.”

“I may be able to help with the tea,” Strange says. “Wong has a blend for everything, I’m sure he’ll be able to help me out with ‘teen with flu’ tea.”

Banner, once again, lays a hand on Tony’s arm. “I realize this is a bit frightening, Tony, but I promise we’ll take good care of him here, okay? He’ll recover and be back to normal before you know it.”

“Swear it?”

“I do.”

“I… okay. Cause I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t.”

Strange pats his arm too. “Get some rest. Barton and I are going to arm ourselves with tea and cold medication and return later on.”


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the avengers descend and chaos ensues.

“Laura says I should give you these.” He holds up two different bottles of liquid medication and one of Pedialyte. One is a daytime version of the other, which is a nighttime cold and cough medication. “She also reminded me of one the time I cried because Lila got an ear infection and wouldn't stop crying.” Tony snorts and Clint defends himself. “She was two and it was my first kid. She says it’s new parent syndrome.”

“Again with the paren—you said it yourself, he’s not actually my kid.”

“But you love him and he looks up to you. You called him ‘my kid’ like four times.”

“He is a kid. With superpowers. A kid with superpowers that I agreed to be responsible for because he needed guidance. A kid plus super powers plus my responsibility equals my kid.”

“So you signed up to be a superpower dad.”

“God-dammit—”

“Look, I get it. It’s complicated. You also seem to think that you probably wouldn’t be any good at it otherwise.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine at it—my dad left me a huge, perfect manual on what not to do.”

“Fair point. The new parent syndrome tells my you’re on the right track. You care a lot about the kid, and that means we do too.” Clint throws him a bottle of cold syrup, which he catches. “Once he can keep stuff down again he can take that. Watch some movies with him and limit dairy.”

“Thanks, Clint.”

Clint pats his shoulder. “Not a problem. Nat is gonna come tomorrow. Fury borrowed her for the weekend but she said, quote, Stark thinks that’s his baby spider but he’s wrong and I’d have killed him if he hadn’t called me. End quote.”

“Oh boy.” He better stay out of her way. If he is Peter’s accidental surrogate superpower dad, Black Widow is his accidental surrogate assassin mom. And she is very scary when Peter seems vulnerable.

“Cap says he’s happy to sit with him during your meeting tomorrow and Scott said he’d love to come by but Cass is sick too.”

“Peter is going to be furious that everyone wants to come.”

“He’ll get over it. He’s a fanboy through and through. Imagine if we got Thor to come too?”

“He’s got better things to do, I'm sure.”

“You did say it was an emergency…”

Now Tony feels bad. “...I don’t mean to waste everyone’s time.”

“It’s not a waste. You were worried.”

* * *

Peter wakes up _starving_. His throat is still sore and burning, but at least he can maybe swallow now? He doesn’t feel like puking.

He looks around and realizes he’s still in observation in the medbay. “FRIDAY?” he rasps.

“How are you feeling, Peter?”

“Hungry, I think.”

“I’ll let Dr. Banner know you’re awake.”

Sure enough, the scientist hurries in moments later. “You up, Pete? How are you feeling?”

“I’m hungry and—Ms. Natasha too? Oh my God, did Mr. Stark call everybody?”

“He did but he was panicking, in his defense. How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m hungry,” he whines, leaning against her as she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Aww,” she says, push his wild hair back. “Let’s get these IVs on a rolling pole, Bruce. I want to take him upstairs.”

“What? Nat—” She stares at him, and he nods, gulping. “Fine, but he’s not ready to be up and about.”

“Steve is making lunch and Clint is setting up movies. We’re going to get him comfortable. The medbay sucks.”

“Thanks, Ms. Nat,” Peter whimpers.

The get into the common room and Peter curls against her on the couch, and Clint hands him a tiny cup of syrup and a massive mug of tea. “Apparently Strange dropped this off for you, he said it would help.”

“You guys don’t have to do all of this,” Peter mumbles.

Natasha just directs Clint to find him a blanket, preferably a warm and fluffy one. He delivers it, and they both get to work tucking him in. With the tea soothing him, the medication kicking in, and Natasha’s fingers in his hair, he falls asleep before the opening credits finish rolling.

At some point, Banner brings up a new bag of saline and another of antibiotics, replacing the empty ones.

“His fever is going away,” Natasha whispers. “He’s coughing less, too.”

“Good,” someone says, and they all turn to find Tony walking in and donning his suit jacket and squatting down in front of a sleeping Peter. “Hey, kid,” he says quietly, a gentle smile on his face. He raises a hand to the teen’s forehead and then allows it to slide down his cheek.

He doesn’t say anything else, just disappears into his meeting.

“He looks worried.”

Steve is the one that is smiling now. “He’s good for him.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“That was kind of cute.”

“Don’t let Tony hear you say that…”

“We came as soon as we could—”

“Oh no. Did something happen to the boy?”

“Is Stark angry?”

Vision and Wanda burst into the Avengers’ common room, only to be immediately shushed by everyone.

Peter groans. “Dere’shno mergencu—lemmeshlep.”

“Aww, Sorry Pete,” Natasha chuckles as he buries his face in her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

“He has the flu and Stark is in full panic mode.”

Wanda immediately frowns, leaning over the boy. “He’s anxious about his school programs,” she mumbles, and a thin line of red snakes out from her fingers. “He won't rest well like this. He is tense.”

“It’s a decathlon competition,” Cap explains. “He is probably going to miss it.”

“Shh, little one,” Wanda says, and Peter’s exhausted form suddenly releases, slipping into Natasha’s lap. Wanda rearranges him there with the blanket and a pillow off the couch, using her powers to lift him.

“What’d you do?”

“I found his anxiety about the competition and blocked it. It’s a simple block and should last the rest of the school year.”

“So he can literally never be nervous about decathlon again?”

“It will help him focus instead.”

“That’s good.”

“For now it will help him sleep.”

“Lunch is ready,” Cap announces some time later. “Soup and sandwiches.”

“Make sure you set aside enough for the kid.”

“Yes, he will need to keep up his strength.”

“At least two bowls’ worth, he always wants seconds.”

The Avengers, all of them, continue to fuss over him for most of lunch, which they take while the watch the movie. Tony returns from his meeting ten minutes later, surprised not to find him in the medbay. He wanders toward the common room where they are arguing about whether or not they should wake him up to feed him or take him to his room to sleep. They don't even see him come in.

“The boy has not eaten all day.”

“I need to check him anyway…”

“If either of you moves him, I’ll cut your throat out in your sleep.”

“Nat, but he must be starving.”

“If he’s that tired he will eat and go back to sleep.”

“Or he can just sleep now and—”

“The first thing he said in the medbay was that he was hungry.”

“The kid needs more tea anyway. And Tylenol.”

“Stop drugging my baby spider, Clint.”

“His fever is manageable now, we should manage it.”

“He’s probably already burned through his last dose anyway.”

“You’re going to wake him up anyway with your bickering,” Tony snorts, surprising the whole team into silence. He leans down and rubs Peter’s knee. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Hey kid. How’s some soup sound?”

He nods, but closes his eyes again.

“That was a yes.”

Clint brings over a fantastic looking chicken dumpling soup and crackers, a new mug of tea, and a new dose of medication, all on a tray.

Peter looks around, watching as all of them seem to be waiting for him to spontaneously combust, or melt into a puddle of virus-infected web fluid, or maybe vanish into another dimension the next time he sneezes.

He gives Tony a pointed look, vaguely waving his spoon at all of them. “This is your fault, Mr. Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Hey, everyone. Thank for reading and kudoing! this took off lol. I’m glad you’re all enjoying this.
> 
> <3Daisy


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is recovering. baby shark jokes and board games ensue.

Thursday, Peter is sad and stuffy, but he doesn’t need IVs anymore. Wanda, Nat, Clint and Tony hover around him like he is a helpless kitten. He eats left-over soup and gets himself the cold medication, but he can’t hold them off anymore after that. They bundle him into a blanket and deposit him on the couch, where he fades in and out of episodes of Supernatural for several hours.

May comes in the afternoon and, satisfied that he’s recovered enough to go back home, figures she should pack him up and get him moving back home. They don’t make it past the couch before everyone is tucking him back onto the couch and giving him tea again.

Peter doesn’t protest, used to the fussing at this point. “Resistance is futile, Aunt May,” he says when the woman gapes at them.

“Mr. Stark made the Avengers thing they had to come avenge some things but they don’t and now they’re all here and they are all trying to help me  _ at the same time.” _

“Something tells me you’re in good hands,” May snorts. “I guess I should go home and bring you your homework, huh?”

Peter groans at the utter  _ mountain  _ of work that must be waiting for him but nods anyway.

“Happy will take you,” Tony offers. “Kid, how does some more tea and some snacks sound?”

“Insomnia cookies?”

“FRIDAY, order 50 cookies from Insomnia—mix and match, but the double chocolate ones are for the kid and me. Get, like… 20 of those.”

“On it, boss. Current ETA is about 40 minutes.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Thank you for this,” May says. “I wish I had more time with him, but—”

“You know I’ve told you a million times that anything you and him need—”

“I know that, but I’m not going to just not work because a billionaire wants to pay for my life.”

“...Why not? Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

May rolls her eyes. “This is more than enough. Thank you.”

“Always.”

Happy texts that he’s ready, and May takes off to get Peter’s things. While they’re gone, Dr. Strange portals in, right in the middle of their coffee table. “Hey there,” he says, sounding really cheesy.

“Dr. Strange?” Peter answers, eyes wide. 

“Oh, well, that’s good, you sound a lot better now than you did on Tuesday. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t need IVs anymore,” he answers. “I still cough a lot.”

“That’s to be expected. Fever?”

Tony answers, “gone” as Strange takes a seat on Peter’s other side and begins to look him over. Strange always seems excessively calm (if not too confident), but this time, Tony appreciates it. It settles his nerves.

Strange leaves another bit of tea when he goes, telling Peter he should stay hydrated and get plenty more rest.

When he’s gone, Peter looks up at Tony and asks, “what’d you think he’d tell me?”

Tony shrugs. “It’s not that I didn’t know what he’d say. It’s just… stressful when there isn’t anything I can do for you.”

“Mr. Stark…”

“You’re really important to me, kid.”

Peter smiles and tucks himself against Tony’s side. After a long moment, Tony wraps his arm around his shoulders and flicks on the TV.

* * *

“FRIDAY, you better have pictures of this,” Natasha hisses when she enters the common room to find Peter curled against Tony, both sound asleep and the TV watching them instead of the other way around.

“Way ahead of you,” FRIDAY answers.

“Shut up, they’re still sleeping.” Rhodey walks in grinning at the picture in front of him.

“Hey Rhodey!”

“Hello Rhodey.”

“Hey Rhodes.”

“I have pictures of you, too, Natasha. Would you like to see them?”

“No thanks,” she growls.

“I came as soon as I could,” Rhodey mutters. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Tony is just freaking out because the kid got the flu.”

Rhodey actually rolls his eyes, but then he relents. “Can’t really be annoyed because for once, it’s not something rather selfish.”

“Can’t say I disagree.”

“He’s been different for a long time now, but this…”

Rhodey smiles. “I know. I’ll start lunch?”

“The kid’s been eating soup for the past few days. Think you can switch it up for him?”

Rhodey narrows his eyes and studies him. “Yeah. He’s probably starving.”

“Boss, your cookies are here,” FRIDAY says, waking up Tony. 

“Send them up,” Tony mumbles. He rubs the kid’s shoulder with the arm that’s already around him, the other coming up to clear the flop of hair away from his face. “Hey, Underoos. How do you feel about lunch and then cookies?”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter answers with a nod. Then he adds, “everyone’s staring at you.”

Tony opens his eyes to find Rhodey, Natasha, Clint, and Wanda all watching them sleep with tender, amused expressions. 

Someone starts singing, “baby Stark do, do, do-do-do, baby Stark! Daddy Stark do, do, do-do-do” and Tony growls, “Knock it off or I’ll tell FRIDAY to hack your instagram and post all the blackmail photos she has on you.”

Everyone, including Peter, bursts into laughter.

* * *

The ride back to Queens is fine. May and Happy have a surprising amount in common, and he lives up to his name--which isn’t at all how Peter described him.

They chit chat while she collects his things, and then she also gets lunch going for them. They eat paninis and salad, and then they head back, laughing and trading embarrassing stories about Peter.

“...so he dumped,” May cackles, “the whole thing into the tub.”

“Did you want to murder him?”

“At first,” May wheezes, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “But you know, Peter has always had this very sincere charm about him. It’s hard to stay angry.”

“Don’t I know it?” Happy’s laughter finally dies down, and he studies May for a moment. “You’ve been through a lot at such a young age.”

“I’m… going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should. Thanks for keeping your head and raising that kid well. He’s good for Tony.”

May tilts her head. “Hmm. Is Tony good for him?”

“Debatable,” Happy laughs, but then he sighs. “In all the time I’ve known him, the only other people he’s invested so much personal attachment in are Rhodey and Pepper. He… went through a lot, very young, too. He… didn’t handle it as well as you. It’s not until they came along that he finally started to get it together.”

“What changed?”

“Afghanistan? Well, he definitely spiraled quite a bit after that. And he definitely hit rock bottom. After that, we had to kind of help him find a new normal. But he’s not been… he’s not been truly happy, you know? Until Peter.”

May picks her fingernails. “I had my doubts, you know? About him super-heroing, about him hanging around the actual Avengers. He’s all I have left.”

“Now that is not true. Tony is very… well, let’s just say, by virtue of his attachment to Peter, consider yourself invited to the yearly Avengers Family Picnic.”

She can’t help herself, she laughs. “There’s one of those?”

“No. But you get the point.”

“I do. Thank you.”

“There should be. Why isn’t there an Avengers Family Picnic?”

May giggles. “Well, let’s see. Thor would bring his brother, and that would go  _ really  _ well. Rogers would bring his best friend, and something tells me that even though you guys and SHIELD buried all of that very quickly, with the Accords and all, that it will still be a sore spot.”

“Peter likes Bucky.”

“Of course he does.”

Happy snorts. “The kid is trusting and pretty forgiving. I’ll tell you, I don’t know how he sees what he sees and maintains his good energy. Every last one of those Avengers has looked into that abyss and lost themselves in it, Tony included. The kid… he reminds them that they can get out again.”

May doesn’t know what to say, so she’s quiet the rest of the way.

* * *

The evening finds all of the Avengers in the common room, entertaining Peter while he sips yet another massive mug of tea. They are playing “Masquerade” and Peter laughs until he’s wheezing because he and Natasha are crushing everyone round after round even though some are trying to use their powers to cheat.

Cookies are flowing and drinks are too. After Peter wins (for the third time), he smiles. “You guys are really awesome,” he says sentimentally. “At first I was really mad at Mr. Stark for bothering you guys but… I’m glad everyone’s here.”

“You’re not a bother, Peter.” Natasha collects the cards and puts them away, taking out a huge stack of Uno cards.

“Dude, no—everyone cheats in Uno!” Clint gripes. 

“You’re a great kid. We’re glad you’re here.”

“Are we playing house rules?”

“No. No fucking house fules! One card at a time, and no piling special cards.”

“What? That’s half the fun!”

“Agreed.”

“It takes away the strategy of it.”

“What the heck strategy goes into Uno?”

As they bicker about the rules, Steve leans over and says, “you make this place brighter. Thanks for letting us help you feel better.”

Peter turns red. “I… it’s…”

“And Tony adores you. The others… it took them a while to see that you weren’t just some new asset Tony was trying to bring in. You mean the world to him and to us, and we’d all do anything for you.”

Peter gapes, barely managing a stuttering thank you.

“You rendered him speechless,” Rhodey says to Steve.

“For once,” Tony mutters, and the whole room break into laughter.


	5. five

The first person to sneeze was Natasha.


	6. six

The third day of Tony being sick, Peter brought him all the soup and cookies he asked for in hopes of not being thrown out the window.


	7. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is sick.
> 
> Ned is completely mindblown when he finds out.
> 
> The father-son bond is very wholesome and cute.

"Wait, let me get this straight. You, Peter Parker, were in the Avenger's private medbay because you caught the flu? And they did Avenger medicine stuff on you?"

"It's literally just like regular medicine. Aunt May had some conference and she had to work doubles all week, so Mr. Stark said I could stay with him."

"Regular medicine but for the _Avengers_ , Peter, funded by a gazillionaire that you're best friends with now. Holy..."

"Whatever, I bet he's never even seen an Avenger." Flash attempts to smack Ned's milk off his tray, but Peter catches it and places it back on the tray. Flash mutters as he walks away, and Ned rolls his eyes.

Peter glares. "Not only have I seen them but I got all of them sick," he blurts out in his defense.

Ned stares.

MJ stares.

Betty stares.

Peter narrows his eyes at Betty. "Don't look at me with that judgement, you started this!"

"I literally can't believe what I'm hearing. I don't believe it. PETER WHY?! THEY LITERALLY DEFEND THE WORLD! You couldn't call out of work _once_? YOU GAVE IRONMAN THE FLU?! Peter, what if they are all feverish and barely functioning during the next ALIEN ATTACK- oh my god. You gave Ironman the flu. You... what about Captain America, did you give him the flu too? Black Widow?"

Peter winces. "Uh... Cap's fine, but most of the rest of them are probably down for the count."

"One day I want to be blessed with the ability to sneeze on Ironman too."

"Please don't," Peter mutters.

"DID YOU GIVE THOR THE FLU TOO?"

"Thor's off-world-can you please stop? You're gonna give me away." Peter hisses the last part emphatically, but Ned stares at him with his eyes wide as door knobs, having completely ignored everything Peter said.

"What about the Falcon, did you get him too?"

"Dude!"

"Sorry."

* * *

After school, Peter climbs to one of his favorite spots in Manhattan before waking his phone and opening up FaceTime.

"Hey, kid."

"Mr. Stark-are you in your lab?!"

"N-no..."

"You'd better go lay down or I'll call Miss Pepper."

Tony huffs at the screen in front of him. "Almost done," he mutters.

"KAREN-"

"Alright, alright." He huffs and mutters more as he saves his work and carefully shuts down his lab. Then he emerges into a darkening penthouse.

"Are you okay? You look awful, Mr. Stark."

The truth is, Tony feels like shit. His lung capacity is different now because of his arc reactor enhancement, so now that he's sick, he constantly feels like he can't take a breath. His eyes are watery and he can barely keep them open, and his throat burns like he deep-throated Satan's- "I'm gonna be fine, kid."

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark..."

"Don't apologize. Jesus. It's not like you could help it any."

Peter nods. Then he gives a suspicious look. "Mr. Stark, that's not your room. I'll web you."

"You wouldn't!" But he gives up. "Fine."

"Please feel better," Peter whispers.

"Aww-don't get all emotional on me, it's just the flu."

Peter raises an eyebrow.

"Thanks for looking out for me, kid."

"Want me to come over?"

"Yeah. Let's finish season 6 of Supernatural."

"On my way!" With that, he thwips off in the direction of Avengers tower, stopping in Tony's favorite café for some tea and plenty of cookies.

* * *

Half way through the episode, Tony is already asleep, so Peter slips on to the ground and starts doing his homework on the coffee table.

He's halfway through Chemistry when Pepper strolls in, holding tea and medication. "Oh, hey Peter."

"Hi, Miss Pepper!"

"You on Starksitting duty?"

"Yeah," Peter laughs. "He was in his lab when I FaceTimed him earlier."

"He doesn't know when to stop."

"I can hear you."

"Then you're not _sleeping,_ Mr. Stark."

"You two aren't allowed to gang up on me."

A round of giggles and chuckles ensues, and when he manages to peel his eyes open, Tony finds himself surrounded by Peter on one side and Pepper on the other. He pulls them both under his arms and smiles as he falls asleep again to the sound of Pepper and Peter bickering about the show still playing on the TV.

Days later, Tony finds a message on his computer.

> **FRIDAY >> family.jpg  
> ** **FRIDAY >> **should I have this framed for you, boss?
> 
> **TS >> **Definitely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end?
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and love! I'm glad so many of you enjoyed this little bit. Let me know what you thought, if you caught any typos or errors, or if you just want to come scream with me. You can do any of that in the comments, or in discord or twitter where you can find me as daisypwrites.
> 
> y'all rock,  
> <3Daisy


End file.
